The Dew that Jeweled the Spider’s Web

I have taken stock for autumn; I have handled every lever – I have lifted half the world up like a girl’s dress for a gander at the prize – at all the secrets. I have memorized the meanings of a thousand esoteric words that no one ever says and matched the whistle to the cardinal and heard flapping in a hedge that will be bare soon, so embarrassed. I have weighed each precious carat of the dew that jeweled the spider’s web and made notes of the figures; I’ve given colors to the different little letters – makes it better when I’m studying the scripture for a hint at what to do next but unfortunately, it guesses. Certainty is sexier – it requires much more effort but I’m finding that it’s worth it to decipher where the nerves hit and then trace their little circuit to a memory you had:

[ Before, when this was nothing but a gray wasteland of basements, you whispered it to me and the expression on your face meant – ]